


Fresh Start

by magpieconsultant



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cancer, Eventual Johnlock, F/M, High School, High School AU, Johnlock - Freeform, Lestrolly, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Stress, Teenagers, Teenlock, eventual lestrolly, eventual molliarty, molliarty - Freeform, they're all about 18
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpieconsultant/pseuds/magpieconsultant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly moves to London with her dad when he develops pancreatic cancer. She had to leave John (her best friend since childhood) behind, and he seems to be having trouble with his girlfriend Mary. Hopefully she'll be able to get her lab partner in biology class (Jim) to pull his weight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Did You Find Out Yet?

Lunch had always been disappointing at school, Molly figured that she should have been used to it by now. So she found it odd when she was struck by a particularly pointed wave of distaste when the lunch lady scooped a rather unpleasing glob of mashed potatoes on to her lunch tray. They looked alright, she supposed, but they were slightly... grey? She couldn't be sure; she didn't have her glasses on yet. Molly thanked the lunch lady and moved down the line, hoping to find something more appetizing as she moved toward the end. It was meatloaf today, which she wasn't quite that fond of, but it was better than the horrendous attempt at Pad Thai the food staff had made the day before. She shuddered at the thought, pushing away the unpleasant memory. She decided that meatloaf wasn't such a bad decision after all. And the meatloaf couldn't be that bad.  _How could you mess up something so simple?_  She assured herself, nodding internally at her commentary. Perhaps she shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so quickly. Molly looked down at the meat, placing a lame grin on her face to direct at the lunch lady who'd given her the food. "Thanks, Mrs. Hudson." She nodded, beginning to walk away towards an empty seat.

"Anytime, sweetheart." The lunch lady replied, giving Molly a gentle smile as she retreated.

Now, to find a seat... Molly had only been living in London for a few weeks now. And so far the only progress she'd made on the friends market was (apparently) with the lunch lady. When her father's condition had worsened, his doctor had suggested that he see a specialist, who was based in the city. Since he needed frequent treatment for the cancer, he'd come to the decision that it would be best to move to London completely rather than commute back and forth frequently. He concluded that the move would in the long run save them money. All of this to say, Molly found it very difficult to be angry with him. Yes, it had been his fault that they'd needed to move. And sure, it was his fault that she needed to start school all over again when she'd had an established group of friends back home. But she would rather have that than have him sick. Of course she would, wouldn't anyone else? And besides, this was a new place. There were new people, and although that frightened her slightly, Molly looked forward to making new friends. But apparently that would need to wait. All the tables were either completely full, scarcely populated, or completely empty. Finding a small table that could seat four people, Molly sat down at the east-facing chair. She placed her backpack on the chair next to her, pressing it down gingerly to be sure that it wouldn't fall off.

Tilting her head a moment in thought, Molly remembered that she would need to talk to John soon. She hadn't texted or called him since the move, and she hadn't remembered until just now. She hadn't realized until just now how much she missed him. They'd nearly grown up together. Honestly, Molly couldn't remember a time when John wasn't her friend. Well, of course there was that little spat in the fifth grade, but that was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Hopefully things were going okay with Mary.... Last she'd heard, things had been headed... Well, downhill. This disappointed Molly, she wanted John to be happy, especially now that she was gone. Not that they were horribly co-dependent; they weren't. It's just difficult when someone becomes less of a figure in your life. Molly sighed, suddenly experiencing a wave of guilt.  _I really hope John is doing alright..._

"So, did you find out yet?" The voice came from her side, a low baritone that she hadn't heard before. Molly looked over to her side, being brought out of her thoughts of home and friends. It was a young man, not much older than her 18 year-old self. He was tall, impressively so, with dark curls. Molly swallowed the mouthful of potatoes in her mouth, allowing herself to speak.

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked, sounding a bit dimmer than she would've liked, but she supposed that was unavoidable at the moment. She was horribly confused by his question. And on second thought, she didn't really think what was asking was any of his business. Whatever that was.

His eyebrows knitted together, showing his distaste with her slowness. He let breath out through his nose. "Did you find out yet?" He repeated, his voice exasperated as he pointed at Molly's mobile. Apparently she'd taken it out without realizing. When Molly still didn't respond, the boy plopped down across from her, his face frustrated. "I am assuming by the fact that you're sitting alone, you wanted some time to think. Either that or you don't have any friends. Or you don't feel the need to sit with them in general. The mobile tells me that you want to talk to someone." He continued, reaching out to take the phone from Molly's limp hand. Usually, she would have protested, but she wasn't quite sure what was going on at the moment. How could he have known that? "Probably someone from your former school. Probably a boyfriend. But why not do that with other people around? If you just wanted to contact them, you could do that with a group of people around you." He ventured. "So, I conclude that he cheated, or there was some sort of falling out, and you are just being told or are waiting to be told. Hence; have you found out yet?" The boy finished, his eyes shining gently with the end of his short speech.

Molly swallowed, her throat a bit dry, and she took a drink of her water. After a few moments of stunned silence, she laughed, her hand reaching to her mouth. "No-- we're. John--!" She was able to respond through her laughter, her face beginning to redden slightly at the idea. "Never, no. No no no." She spat out through her chuckles. "Oh, God no. That would be--" She made a grimace, trying to picture that, failing miserably. "No." She stated, the last one holding finality. "That would just be weird. John's like my brother almost." She explained, taking her mobile from Sherlock's hand, noticing that she'd received a text. Oh no. "Sorry, just a minute." She replied to the boy, holding a hand up to him. She opened her messages, reading carefully over the words once. Twice. Molly brought a hand to her opened mouth.

'Broke up with me. I don't know what to do. I know you're still getting settled in. Can I visit this weekend? I don't want to be stuck around here. JW'

"I'm guessing that something went bad at least. Did he just lose his relationship?" The boy asked, breaking Molly's concentration.

She became a bit annoyed with the curly-haired boy. Who was he to talk to her like that? To talk about John that way? "Yes, actually. Why are you so concerned?" She shot back, putting her phone back into her pocket. She'd call John later, this was much too important to handle over text messages.

The boy stood up, draping his jacket over his shoulder, giving a gentle shrug. The motion sent a gentle puff of air her way, a hint of cigarette smoke on it. "Bored." He stated, beginning to walk out of the cafeteria. "Sherlock Holmes, by the way. Nice to meet you Miss Hooper. Before you ask, it's on your key chain." And without another word, he was gone. 

Molly looked at her backpack. And sure enough, there was the Molly Hooper key chain that she'd gotten when John had taken her to the beach last summer. They'd gotten matching engraved pieces of titanium. Looking at the metal made her miss her friend even more, and her heart ached to know that he felt hurt and alone back home. Well, it was home for him. After a few moments of contemplation, Molly took out her phone again, deciding to send John a quick text just to assure him that she'd received his message.

'I'm so sorry, John. I'll do what I can to get you here for the weekend, I'll need to talk to dad first. If worse comes to worse, I'll go see you. Molly'

Molly finished her lunch in silence, the meatloaf and potatoes cold now.

* * *

 

It was lucky that John had talked to her when he had. Thankfully she only had one class left today, and Chemistry club only met on Thursdays, so she would be able to go home right after class was over. Unfortunately, Biology was her least favorite class. Not because of the material, of course, she loved learning about biology. What she didn't particularly enjoy was her lab partner.

Molly walked into the classroom, finding her lab table and sitting down, placing her backpack on the back of the chair she was parked at. She took out the materials she would need for class today, including her lab book and the required text book. With all of the treatment for her father, money was tight right now. Molly had always been a wonderful student, but now she was under much more pressure than she had been before to perform well. It was stressful, and with the drama John was going through now, Molly was beginning to get a bit exhausted. She could only handle so much. So it didn't really help when her lab partner would do none of the prescribed work. Adding a couple notes to her homework, Molly diligently wrote away, not noticing that'd joined her until he spoke.

"Afternoon, dear." He purred gently, leaning back on his seat, only the back two legs of the chair making contact with the floor.

Not expecting his appearance, Molly jumped slightly in her chair, turning to meet eyes with the young man sitting next to her. "You scared the hell out of me, Jim." She huffed, turning back to her work. The reaction made him smile, but he had expected as much. Usually he would have laughed a little, but seeing as how this was her usual behavior, he remained unaffected, sans grin.

"I can't help it you're jumpy." He replied, closing his eyes. The day was nearly over. He just needed to get through this one class, and then he would be all done.

Molly decided to ignore the comment, adding one last piece of information to her homework before turning to him. "Did you do the assignment?" She asked, already knowing the answer, but still asking all the same. Who knew, he may even surprise her.

This time he did laugh, a low chuckle that came out so quickly and forcefully that it nearly sounded like the bark of a dog. "What do you think, darling?" He asked, opening one eye to gaze in her direction, gauging the reaction he would inevitably receive.

Taking a deep breath, Molly did her best to control her frustration. Sometimes she really just wanted to punch Jim in the face. "Could you please stop with these nicknames?" She asked, feeling her cheeks prickle a little as they developed a light pink color. She knew that he would notice, he always noticed. At least he had the decency not to bring it up. At least the majority of the time. Taking out a pen for him, Molly rifled through her backpack a moment, producing another copy of the assignment that she'd already made for him. "Here. I'll let you copy my work, but I'm not going to do it  _for_ you." She explained, a slight edge to her voice. Molly knew that her stress was beginning to show, and honestly, if she got pushed much farther, she didn't know how long it would take before she cracked under the pressure. "Look, I understand that you don't care, but I'm actually trying to get into a good university, and I would really appreciate it if you would at least do your homework." Molly explained, her tone a bit more relaxed than it was before. "I need to get good grades if I want to be admitted to a good school, and I know it sounds bitchy, but I can't have you drag me down with you. I'm under a lot of stress right now, and I honestly can't handle you on top of all that, alright?" She finished, feeling a bit rude about the whole thing. But she needed to do what she needed to do. 

He hadn't really expected this type of a reaction. Usually Molly was so soft spoken that he didn't think that she'd given a rat's ass about anything he did. Apparently that wasn't the case. "I'll see what I can do, Molly." He nodded, taking the finished assignment from her hand, diligently going back and forth from paper to paper, and filling the blank spaces on his own sheet. "I didn't think that you cared." He mentioned absently. Perhaps if he tried to make conversation, it would tell her that he really did care. Somewhere. Maybe. Did he really? Jim never really ventured to care about anything other than what he wanted, and the people he needed in order to make what he wanted his own. Maybe he did care a little. He knew that he didn't like it when she was upset. It made him feel oddly guilty. "What is it that's stressing you out? If you don't mind me asking?" He ventured delicately, dark eyes gleaming slightly with the prospect of new information. "Other than the fact that you've come to a new school already six weeks into the year?"

Closing her eyes, Molly massaged her tired irises. She really should have gone to bed earlier last night. At least there wasn't a test to study for tomorrow. She sighed, not really wanting to talk about the whole thing. But she figured that she might as well get it over with. "My dad has pancreatic cancer. He's in chemo right now, but I don't know how long he's going to last. So that's a bit stressful, seeing as how he could practically drop dead at any moment without warning. And on top of that we have finals in a week and if I don't  _study_ \--" She stressed, pointing at the paper that was still half blank. "I might fail half of my classes, and I can't let that happen if I want to get into a good university, and even if I do get in, my grades need to be good enough so that I can get financial aid, because honestly, with all the chemo; my dad and I are going to be running out of money pretty soon. Oh! And that reminds me, I need to start looking for a job. And on top of all that, I  _just_ found out that my best friend had his heart broken by his now ex-girlfriend. So yes, I'm a bit stressed right now." Molly finished, feeling completely exasperated by the end of the monologue.

Jim merely blinked, at a loss for words. He'd expected something along the lines of boyfriend or relationship trouble, so he'd been caught completely off-guard. "You didn't need to tell me all that, you know." He replied quietly, shifting slightly in his seat. He wasn't quite uncomfortable, no. Jim didn't really get uncomfortable, that was kind of his thing. But he did feel like he'd invaded her privacy. 

"Sorry." Molly replied with a sigh, running a hand through her hair before tying it up. "Don't worry about it. Just do your work, alright?" She asked, getting ready for class now. Molly didn't know what the teacher had planned, but she was looking forward to ending this conversation. She didn't particularly talking about this sort of thing. Least of all with Jim.

Ignoring the comment, Jim leaned over a bit, not quite in her personal space, but getting dangerously close. "You know, I have a job at that cafe down the street." He replied, his face oddly kinder than usual. Most of the time, there would be a trace of deviousness, but at the moment he seemed oddly genuine and innocent. "I could put in a good word for you with my boss." He replied, turning back to his paper as the teacher dimmed the lights. Apparently they would be watching a film today.

After thinking on the offer a moment, Molly tore a piece of paper from her notebook, passing it to Jim after writing a short message. He smiled down at the paper, writing his own back before handing the paper to her again.

'Thank you'  
'It's no problem, darling ;)'

At least that was one thing she could cross of her list for today. 


	2. Fashion Statement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Molly falls asleep in Biology, Jim is kind enough to lend her his jacket. On the way to the bus, she runs in to Sherlock again, and one of his friends is kind enough to drive her home.

Biology went by quickly, something Molly hadn't quite anticipated. Not to say that the fact wasn't welcome, it most certainly was. Given that she hadn't gone to sleep until about two the night before, the darkened room made her very sleepy. The professor droned on as the film continued, pointing out little details that the students wouldn't have noticed on their own. Molly gave in to the desire to nap after the film completed an explanation on symbiosis. She crossed her arms, her chin resting on her forearms. Slowly, steadily, her eyelids closed. Her eyes felt dry from being awake so long, so they teared up a little bit as they closed. She rubbed the water away, sniffing gently as she got comfortable in her seat. It was a bit cold in the classroom, and Molly regretted not stopping at her locker before class to get her jacket. Why did the professor need to keep the window open? It was raining outside. But she didn't mind, the constant hum of the professor’s words and the soft pattering of the rain on the roof and windows eventually lulling her to sleep. She didn't go deeply enough into sleep to dream, but she had a bit of an impression that there was still something going on around her. She heard something very quiet, apart from the voice of the teacher and the rain, but it was nearly over before it began, so she didn't pay much attention. Her eyes fluttered open a moment, her eyes already fixed on the clock, even while she was asleep. 45 minutes left. That was good enough time for a quick nap. Molly cuddled deeper into her arms, letting out a soft sigh. Her cheek rested on the inside of her left elbow, her right covering her nose. She promised herself that she would go to sleep earlier tonight. She would get home, call John, make dinner, do homework, and go to sleep. And feed Toby, too. Couldn't forget that. She wasn't quite sleeping at this point, she supposed, merely resting her eyes. But she didn't mind, it was relaxing.

Jim had been focusing on the film, but he’d noticed a small movement out of the corner of his eye. Molly was falling asleep as she was sitting up. Her eyes would drift shut, and her head would begin to drop, but it would snap her awake, only to repeat the process again and again. To be honest, he found it quite adorable. She was trying so hard to stay awake. But she was failing so miserably the he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. His eyes flicked back and forth from the film to Molly for a few minutes, keeping an eye on her just to see how she was doing. Eventually she rested her head on the table, arms encircling her face.  The positioning reminded him vaguely of a bird, how they tuck their beak under a wing to get comfortable. Taking a closer look, Jim realized that the short, lightly colored hair on her arm was standing up. As he thought on it, he realized that the window was open. _She must be cold._ He considered idly, bringing a hand to his mouth in thought. Molly seemed pretty deep in sleep, so he decided that she wouldn’t notice. He removed his jacket, still warm from wearing it himself. Quietly, gently, he wrapped the jacket around her shoulders, making sure that it was secure. She stirred quietly, making a bit of noise, and he froze. What the _hell_ was he doing? Jim had never been so…. Chivalrous. What was wrong with him?! Molly moved a bit more, opening her eyes, which nearly sent him into a right panic, but she closed them just as quickly. The moment passed, and Molly settled again. He couldn’t be sure, but he was nearly certain that she hadn’t noticed the jacket at all, which made him feel oddly grateful. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he didn’t really want Molly to know that he’d made the gesture. It felt a bit too… Personal. A bit too non-platonic. Sure, he thought Molly was cute, but that was in the “she’s-quiet-and-shy-and-adorable-and-makes-me-feel—“God _, I should really shut up._ He interrupted himself, scrubbing his face with his hand. Perhaps it was just the room. Yeah, it was the room. It was darker, and the lighting was cool, which complimented her skin well, and the green jumper she had on did go very well with her eyes. _This is not good._ He commented internally, running a hand through his hair. Jim turned back to the film, his face stoic as his mind raced around, trying to find a way out of this _thing_ he’d caught himself in the middle of.

45 minutes later, the professor flicked the lights back on, and Molly raised her head slowly, looking around the room. She sighed through her nose, stretching. Moving her arms outward, she noticed that she felt fabric on her arms. Looking over at her shoulder, Molly’s eyebrows crinkled together and she yawned. ”Is this--?” She took the jacket off, about to ask Jim if it was his, but he was already gone. She saw the collar of his white tee shirt skim the doorway as he walked out of the class room quickly, not even saying goodbye. Well that was odd. And nice. The gesture was sweet, and it made Molly smile. She’d never considered Jim to be one to do something quite like this, but she had no complaints. She stood up, zipping the jacket up to her collarbone before slipping her arms through the loops of her backpack. It was leather, and she could tell that he’d had it for quite a while. There were creases where he would bend his arms, making definite marks around the elbows and shoulders. Molly picked up both of their assignments, handing them both in to the teacher before walking out the door and into the hallway. She smiled at the prospect of being home soon. Molly looked down at the floor, gently smiling. Why had Jim given her his jacket? Was he just being nice, or..? Well, or _what_? What was the other option? That he fancied her? No, he couldn’t. He was just being nice. “Just being nice.” She assured herself aloud, nodding at her own words.

“Is that Jim’s?” She heard behind her. Molly groaned, knowing who it was even before she turned to look at him. It was Sherlock again. He looked genuinely confused, eyebrows mashing together, forehead crinkled. His eyes were shining just as they normally were, but he seemed a bit grumpier than before, if that were possible.

“Yeah, what do you want?” Molly huffed, crossing her arms as Sherlock fell into step with her. She didn’t want to be rude, but she was nearly at the end of her rope for the day. And she still had to deal with John. She reminded herself that she would do that first thing when she got home.

Sherlock said nothing, seeming a bit surprised by her bluntness. “I was merely curious. I apologize for invading your privacy.” He replied, his voice equally short as hers. Molly certainly didn’t seem like the kind of person to be rude, least of all to someone she was unfamiliar with, so he was somewhat stunned by the reaction he received. Sherlock appraised Molly lightly, looking over her attire. Simple yet practical shoes, something she could jog or run in if she needed. Simple jeans, and a light green jumper underneath the jacket. Everything was simplified, subdued. She didn’t want to be noticed, either that, or she didn’t go out of her way to bring attention to herself. But whether that was purposeful or not was up for debate. He guessed that most of the clothing came from knock-off producers, things that she could’ve bought for half price. So she was tight on money. He slowed his pace a moment, studying the decorations on her backpack. People didn’t think about it that much, but you could extract a lot of information about a person based off of the trinkets they kept on their accessories. Looking over the various pieces, he noticed the titanium keychain from before which had told him her name. Eventually, his eyes settled on a light purple ribbon fastened to her backpack by means of a safety pin. “Oh. Pancreatic Cancer. That’s why.” He mused.

Molly stiffened at the observation. Why did he feel the need to harass her? She’d been having a better day since she’d seen him last, but now that he’d showed up again, he seemed to be bringing her down again.

“That is why you moved here, correct?” Sherlock pressed, picking up his pace so that he and Molly were walking next to each other again. “The Royal Marsden in Chelsea has an upper gastrointestinal specialization center.” He continued, not noticing the angry redness in Molly’s cheeks.

“God, is he working that on you, too?” Another voice questioned, coming from Molly’s other side. “C’mon, Sherlock, knock it off. I’m sure if she knows someone who’s got cancer, she probably isn’t too keen on talking about it.” The speaker continued. Turning to see who it was, Molly was met with a new face. He was taller than her, but then again, most people were. But he had a kind face, which was smiling down at her gently at the moment. Seconds later, the new young man had turned his attention to Sherlock. “You can’t just badger people all the time because you’re bored.”

Sherlock ignored his assertions completely, forgetting about Molly and the cancer completely. “Mycroft’s throwing a fit, will you give me a ride home today?” He asked, not even noticing the slightly agitated edge to the other boy’s voice.

The question confused Molly greatly, who looked back and forth between the two, her face displaying her misperception openly. “Wait—you two are _friends_?” She asked, laughing slightly at the word. Sherlock didn’t seem like the type to have friends. Least of all someone pleasant like the other boy seemed to be.

The other boy snorted, laughing at the question lightly. “I guess you could say that. Although I think permanent babysitter would be a more accurate.” He explained, smiling at Molly again. He offered a hand for her to shake. “I’m Greg.” He explained, smiling as he shook her hand.

Molly opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off by Sherlock. “This is Molly Hooper, Greg. She’s just moved here a few weeks ago. Happy, fun, fun.” He groaned. Sherlock loathed formalities. There was no point for him when he already knew what he needed about anyone just by looking at them. He hadn’t even needed to ask Molly for her name, which he supposed was a bit lucky. “Who goes around with their name on a keychain?” He asked aloud, his voice only mildly incredulous.

“Oi! Knock it, I’m sure there’s a reason.” Greg countered, defending Molly. He paused a moment to look at the keychain, holding the engraved metal delicately in his hand. He flipped to the back, the side that didn’t have her name on it, reading the words there. “Cornwall. Beautiful place, I went there last summer with my parents.” Greg mentioned, dropping the metal, which clinked a little against a zipper on Molly’s backpack.

“Yeah, it is really nice there.” Molly replied, giving Greg a smile. He seemed nice. Not at all like Sherlock. “My best friend and I went there this past August.” She explained. Greg nodded, and they continued to walk down the hall again. All except Sherlock, who was staring daggers down at the two of them as they walked away.

He fumed, a grimace on his face. “You didn’t answer my question!” He protested, jogging to keep up with Greg and Molly. The other turned, his eyebrows knitting together for a moment out of confusion. But then he remembered Sherlock’s request, and the question clicked in his brain.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I can drive you home. Besides, Mike would throw a fit if I didn’t. He may be pissed at you right now, but if you aren’t home on time it’ll be my neck, you know.” Greg reminded, looking down at the floor after he’d spoken. While he wouldn’t exactly consider Sherlock his friend, he did care about him. It had basically been his job to look after him since grade school. Sherlock’s parents were wealthy, which was both good and bad for the Holmes brothers. While they were given a lot more opportunities than other people, their parents were also working constantly, and because of that, they never really got to see them. Greg had been invited to multiple occasions at the Holmes residence while Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were there, mostly Christmas and Easter dinners. He’d only gone one time, and it was likely the most awkward experience of his life. They didn’t talk, they didn’t laugh, and they didn’t really want you to touch anything. It was almost like being in a museum. Everything had its proper place and if anything deviated from the norm, it was stopped immediately. He’d always wondered why Sherlock and Mycroft acted the way they did, and the occasion had answered most, if not all, of his questions.

Greg didn’t mind taking care of Sherlock, he was just kind of used to it by now. Of course he had other friends, mostly his team mates from the rugby team. But they tended to be a bit obnoxious. He hadn’t really thought about it this way, but Greg was probably the cleverest out of his group of friends outside of the Holmes brothers. Perhaps he’d just gotten too used to the two of them. Maybe normal people were too boring now. “You know, he should start paying me for all favors I do for him. I really might as well be a babysitter.” He laughed, scrubbing at his cheek as he smiled. Sherlock didn’t comment, silently walking at Molly’s side and maintaining eye contact with Greg

Molly laughed along with him, which he hadn’t expected, but it was nonetheless welcome. After a few more minutes, they neared the door at the end of the hallway. The three of them walked outside, Greg politely holding the door open for Molly while Sherlock opened the door for himself and walking outside. “Thanks. It was nice to meet you, Greg.” Molly replied, beginning to veer off to the left.

Sherlock remained silent, walking toward the parking lot where Greg’s car was. Greg almost followed, but he paused, watching Molly go. “Hey.” He called, and she turned back around, her face slightly surprised. What did he want? Greg smiled again, gesturing toward Sherlock who was already halfway down the sidewalk. “I can give you a ride.” He explained, taking a few steps backwards in the same direction as the taller individual. “I mean if you want, you’ll get home quicker.” He added, laughing slightly. As he backed up toward the parking lot.

Molly paused a moment, considering the offer. She hardly knew him, and while being stuck in a car with Sherlock didn’t really seem appealing to her, Greg would be there, too. And maybe she was feeling a bit adventurous. Being in a new place with new people meant that she could be herself, and she wouldn’t need to worry about any repercussions like she would at home. No one had any preconceived ideas of her here, she could be Molly Hooper and no one else, and that thought made her happy. “You coming?” Greg called, jogging to catch up with Sherlock. Molly smiled, tightening the straps of her backpack so that she could jog more freely across the pavement. She caught up with Greg, racing past him to get to the car first, passing Sherlock also.

“I call shotgun!” She cried, Sherlock’s face dropping into a frown as he walked up next to the car.

“You can’t do that. You haven’t ridden in the car before. I always sit front.” Sherlock challenged, reaching out to grasp the door handle to the passenger’s side. Thankfully, Greg walked up at that moment.

“Hey, Ms. Hooper is a guest in my vehicle, so I must insist that she sits up front this time.” He told Sherlock, pushing his hand away from the door handle. “And she hasn’t ridden in the car yet, she deserves a front-row seat for the roller coaster ride.” He laughed, opening the door for Molly again. Sherlock grunted, opening the door to the back seat, slamming the door behind him. Greg merely laughed, leaning under the roof of the car to be sure Molly was properly secured in her seatbelt. “Sorry we had to bring the baby along.” He joked, closing the door after he heard the seatbelt click. He walked around the front hood of the car, getting into the driver’s side behind the wheel. Sherlock crossed his arms. He just wanted to go home. He didn’t particularly mind Molly, but at the moment, she was in the way between him and what he wanted. He found it mildly frustrating, but he didn’t say anything. Sherlock knew that he’d already irritated her enough today. He doubted that anything else he had to say to her would be welcome. “So. Where am I headed?” Greg asked, locking his own seat belt into place.

“Jamison Avenue.” Molly replied, setting her backpack on her lap and crossing her legs. She liked the street that they’d moved to. It was clean, and the neighbors were nice enough. The flat was nice. She had a decently-sized room, and Toby seemed to like it, so Molly had nothing to complain about.

“Oh, really? That’s nice, I like it there.” Greg replied. Which was of course a total lie. He’d never heard of Jamison Avenue before. After a short moment, he realized that the comment would probably end up hurting him more than it would end up helping. His eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror a moment, glancing at Sherlock to see how he’d reacted, if at all. Of course he was smirking. That little sly grin that let Greg know that he knew exactly what was going on. Greg pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street. “So… How are you liking it?” He asked, smiling over to Molly a moment. He knew it must be difficult moving in to a new house and a new school. He was lucky his parents had never needed to change jobs or anything. He’d lived in the same place his whole life. And he was oddly okay with that.

She nodded, a smile on her face. “I like it.” She replied, looking down at her hands a moment, her fingers laced together. “Most people are nice.” She laughed, looking behind herself a moment to take a peek at Sherlock, who still hadn’t spoken a word since they’d gotten into the vehicle.

Greg chuckled along with her, looking up at the mirror to asses Sherlock again. “Aw, come on. We’re only joking, Sherlock.” He chided. Sherlock, in response, looked up a moment to give Greg an incredibly meaningful look. He knew exactly what was going on, what Greg was doing. And by the glint in his eye, Greg knew that he would make things incredibly difficult if he bothered him much more. That being said, Greg backed off, not wanting to screw himself over.

Due to the fact that Greg had informed Molly that he knew where Jamison Avenue was, she hadn’t thought there was a need to give him directions. Once they reached the first intersection, Greg had flicked his eyes up to the rear-view mirror again, his expression pleading. Sherlock knew every street in London, and Greg knew that. It was all locked up in that mind palace of his that he would go on about. Greg had no idea where he was going, but Sherlock. Sherlock knew exactly where he was. He knew exactly what turns to take. They waited at the intersection a second longer than what would’ve been considered normal before Sherlock decided to be helpful. Discretely, quietly, he raised his right arm as if to stretch, bending his neck in the same direction, his head pointing to the right. Greg smiled internally, appreciating the gesture.

The rest of the drive consisted of quiet conversation between Greg and Molly, Sherlock guiding him in the right direction the whole time. After the first few turns, Greg figured out that when Sherlock touched his neck it meant to turn right, and a tug on his earlobe meant to go left.  Other than that, he remained silent, looking out through the front window of the car.

“Mine’s the third one on the left, there.” Molly informed as they began to drive down the Avenue. Greg slowed down, stopping at the curb and putting the car in park. All three of them got out of the car, and Greg jogged around to Molly’s side, grabbing her backpack before she had the chance, putting a loop over one of his shoulders.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” He replied nicely when she shot him a slightly bewildered expression. Molly’s confusion slowly ebbed away, being replaced by happy understanding, and a smile began to creep across her face.

“Thanks, that. That’s very nice of you.” She replied, her sentence somewhat broken, but Greg didn’t seem to mind. “Bye, Sherlock. Have a good afternoon.” She offered, giving him a small wave before walking toward the door, Greg in tow. Sherlock simply hummed, giving her a false smile before plopping into the passenger’s seat, clicking his seatbelt into place. “He’s not very…. Sociable. Is he?” Molly laughed, reaching the porch.

Greg laughed at the choice of words. “Yeah, well. He’s just a bit… Different.” He replied, chuckling. “I believe this is yours, Miss Hooper.” He replied, handing her the bag from his back. She took it gratefully, removing her keys from the front pocket and unlocking the front door. “It was really nice meeting you.” He added, just as she was about to head inside. There was a brief moment of panic when he was unsure of how she would react, but she smiled quickly, nodding in confirmation.

“It was nice meeting you, too, Greg. Have a good afternoon.” Molly replied, brushing a stray hair from her cheek before walking inside.

“Yeah. You, too.” Greg answered, and she closed the door behind her quietly. He waited outside the closed door a moment, nodding to himself. He began to walk backward off the porch, clapping his hands together a couple of times. “You, too.” He repeated, not able to help the grin on his face.

He walked back to the car quietly, hopping inside and putting the car in drive. “Thanks by the way.” He stated, not looking at Sherlock, who was now smirking openly.

“For what, Greg? I didn’t do anything.” He replied, his voice coy as he chuckled lightly, the sound resonating at the center of his chest.

“Oh, shut up. You know what you did.” Greg answered, turning the car around to drive back the way they had come.

Sherlock chuckled again. “Yes, I suppose I do.” He responded, looking out the window. “So you like her.”

Greg sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I suppose there’s no point in lying to you.”

“A futile practice, indeed. You do understand she was wearing Jim Moriarty’s coat?” Sherlock clarified, turning to Greg, showing him that the seriousness in his tone was reflected in his features.

Greg faltered a moment, a bit dazed by this new information. Was Molly going out with Jim? He’d been almost certain that she’d been flirting with him… “Are you sure? It didn’t look like that.”

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock shook his head. “I’m certain it was his. Do you really think that Molly would walk around with a jacket two sizes too large for her all the time?”

He shrugged, not quite sure what to say. “I dunno. Maybe?”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Maybe it’s some sort of fashion statement….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the second chapter! If you like it please leave a comment!! ^_^


	3. We've Got the Green Light, Johnny Boy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly contacts John after returning home from a long day at school.

After closing the door, Molly tossed her backpack on the couch, sitting down next to it a moment. She closed her eyes, rubbing gently at her closed lids. She was still a bit fatigued from her nap in biology class. Remembering what happened, she looked down to her clothed arms. Removing Jim’s coat, she got up again (somewhat reluctantly) to place the jacket on one of the pegs next to the door. After putting it in the proper place, she stretched, her balled up fists extending over her head. Feeling a slight warmth coming from her ankles, Molly looked down, finding Toby circling around her ankles, welcoming her home. “Hello, Toby.” She smiled, kneeling down a moment to scratch under his chin. “Did you have a good day?” She prompted, the ginger cat nuzzling into her palm. Molly smiled, kissing the top of the cat’s head before standing up again.

Now it was time to get down to business. John needed to be called. “C’mon, boy.” Molly called to Toby, snapping a couple of times to get his attention. She picked up her backpack again and walked into her room, Toby obediently following. Once they were both inside, she closed the door, dropping her backpack once again, this time on the floor. Molly hopped onto her bed, Toby doing the same, and she rolled on to her belly after taking her mobile out of her pocket. She would need to wait until her father got home to ask if John could come over for the weekend, but she could at least call him now just to get the gist of what it was exactly that had happened between him and Mary. Molly had been under the impression that they were doing okay, at least while they were around other people. But she’d never really spent time with the two of them by herself. Sure, she and John would hang out all the time, but she never really interacted with the two of them as a couple. At least not on her own. Scrolling through her contacts, she got to ‘Johnny’. That had happened back in their second year of secondary school. One day John had decided to go through all her contacts and change the names of every single person. She’d teased him that he’d changed his own name to something so babyish, and he’d been a bit embarrassed by it. So of course she hadn’t changed it. And if the situation was right, she would never hesitate to call him Johnny when she got the chance. But now wasn’t that time. Dialing his contact, she waited for him to answer. The phone rang once. A second time. Finally after the third ring, he answered.

“Hey.” She heard from the other end, his voice sounding a bit more gravely than usual.

“Hey, John. You doing okay?” Molly asked, putting a hand through her hair. She already knew that he wasn’t, but she thought that it would be a kind gesture to ask. Although he would never admit to it, John liked being comforted, especially when he was upset or going through something.

“Yeah. I’m doing okay. Feel a bit tired. Bit upset. But pissed. Well, actually I’m really pissed. Don’t really want to think about that at the moment, though. How was your day?” He asked. And he did sound tired. It was that voice he used when they would stay up to obscene hours of the night marathoning Bond films. Except not quite as happy. In fact not nearly as happy. Quite the opposite of happy. He wasn’t upset, though, so that was good. He’d probably already vented out all the anger before she’d called him. Maybe he’d talked to Irene. Maybe? Molly couldn’t be sure. They were more acquaintances rather than friends, but she supposed that they were close enough that it was a possibility. Considering this, Molly felt a slight hint of jealousy, followed immediately by guilt. She couldn’t help that she wasn’t there to talk to him, there was no reason to feel bad about it. And if she wasn’t there, John needed to talk to _someone_ and if that someone was Irene, then so be it.

“My day was alright, I guess.” She answered. “I got a free ride home, so that’s nice.” Molly added, laughing slightly.

“Oh. I know that giggle.”

“C’mon, there’s no giggle.”

“There was a damn giggle, and I know what that giggle means, Molly Hooper.”

“Alright, then, _if_ I giggled—and I’m not saying I did—what does that mean exactly? Since you know everything apparently?” Molly replied, smiling widely in spite of the fact that her friend couldn’t see.

“Alright, I’ve done extensive research on this. That specific giggle can mean either one of two things. One, there’s a guy involved. Or two, you got someone to buy you food. And seeing as how you only got a ride home, I’m guessing the former.” John replied, not sounding quite as upset as he had been before now.

“Well. He’s _nice_ I guess. He leant me his jacket, so that was nice.” Molly shrugged, not thinking much of it. “Oh, wait. Or did you mean the one who gave me a ride home?” She asked, realizing where she might’ve made a slight mistake. She heard John take in a gasp of false surprise on the other end of the line.

“Molly Louise Hooper, you little tart! Leading on two men at once, how rude.” He laughed.

Molly blushed slightly, her cheeks becoming a gentle shade of pink. “Shut up.” She grumbled, rolling over on to her back, legs crossing. Toby crawled on to her stomach and curled up, and Molly placed her hand on his side, scratching his fur absent-mindedly.

John laughed again, perhaps even a bit harder than he had last time. “Well, alright, you can’t just tell me about one. How about the second? He gave you a ride, tell me what car he has. You can tell a lot about personality by someone’s car.”

“I don’t know what car it was, I don’t really pay attention to that stuff.” Molly replied, rolling her eyes. “But he’s nice, too. Which is more than I can say for his friend.” She added, remembering Sherlock.

“Yeah? What’s wrong with him?” John asked, sounding vaguely interested.

“Oh my God. This guy.” Molly began, sitting up. “Alright, are you ready for this? It may take a while. There’s a bit to go on about.” She warned. After a moment, she heard a sound of confirmation coming from John, so she took it as a signal to go on. “Okay, so first thing he asks me. And keep in mind I’ve never even seen this guy before, never mind talking to him. And I was worried about you, with the whole… You know, _thing._ First thing he asks me: ‘did you find out yet?’ And I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just looked at him and said: ‘what are you even talking about?’ And then he just asks me the same question with this tone that makes him sound like he’s talking to a complete idiot. And then he goes off on this long tangent about how I’m sitting alone (as if I wasn’t aware of it already), and how I don’t have any friends and how I want to talk to someone because I have my phone out. He was just a complete arsehole. He was going on like he was some kind of amateur detective.” John followed along with the story, adding in an ‘uh-huh’ or a ‘yeah’ when it was appropriate, sometimes chuckling quietly. “But wait, wait. I didn’t even tell you the best part!” Molly continued, already laughing as she remembered how the previous conversation had unfolded. “He thought that you and I were a couple!” And the both of them completely broke out into laughter, unable to contain the hilarity of the assumption. Molly rolled over on to her side, due to the fact she was laughing so hard, which caused Toby to get up off of her belly. He looked over at her, his expression displeased. “It was a bit impressive, though, he knew my name just by looking at my keychain. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“Hmm. That’s pretty cool.” John conceded.

“Alright, there’s more. What do you want?” She asked, still laughing slightly.

“What about the guy that drove? What about him?”

“What do you mean: ‘what about him?’?”

John sighed. “God, you’re such a child. Do you like him?” He prompted.

“Well, yeah, I like him. He’s nice. I don’t know if I want to go out with him or anything, but I’d like to spend time with him. He was very nice, very sweet.” She explained, shrugging slightly.

“So what you’re saying is that you like the other guy better? Jacket-boy?” John asked, laughing at the title.

“I guess… I guess I’ve just known Jim longer, is all. I’m a bit more comfortable with him than I am with Greg. At least right now, you know? And you are seriously the worst at nicknames. Jacket-boy? That sounds like a horrible comic book hero.” She laughed, hearing a noise outside her door. Looking up, Molly got off of her bed. “Hey, John, I’ll call you back, I think dad’s home. I’ll ask him if you can come over this weekend.” She explained.

“Alright, Molls. And my nicknames are fantastic, don’t hate.” He replied.

“Okay, then, Johnny.”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you, too, John.” And with that, Molly heard a faint click, and the call was over.

* * *

 

After a half hour of working away, Molly had prepared herself and her father their dinner. She didn’t mind. It was mostly second nature for Molly. Her mother had left when she was in the second grade, and Molly had almost been forced to take care of herself since her dad had to work. Now that her dad had gotten sick, she’d needed to pick up all the extra slack. He was still going to work, but anything other than going to and from home was about all he could handle. Tonight she’d prepared one of his favorites she’d made before. A chicken cordon bleu sandwich. She quite enjoyed it herself, so she thought it was a good compromise. Besides, she thought it would be a good idea to have him in a good mood before she asked him if John could visit over the weekend. Of course her father had no issue with John, in fact he actually liked John quite a bit. But it wouldn’t hurt to have him in a good mood.

Once the cheese was properly melted on the bread in the oven, Molly removed the pan that they had been placed on, setting them on top of the stove. The chicken finished soon after, and the kitchen was filled with the smell of seasonings and melted cheese. “Dad! Dinner’s ready!” She called over her shoulder, standing on the tips of her toes to reach up and take down two plates for them to eat from.

An arm wrapped around her shoulder gently, and she turned to find her father standing next to her, giving her a happy smile. “It smells great, Molly.” He replied, giving her a kind pat on the back before taking a plate with one of the halves of the sandwich. He sat down at the dinner table, sighing quietly as he got situated. His back was a bit sore, but he couldn’t complain. He could have been in worse pain, so he was grateful that this was all he got.

“You want anything to drink, dad?” Molly called from the kitchen, getting herself a ginger ale, reaching down an empty glass for her father.

“I’ll just have water, thanks.” He replied, waiting patiently for his daughter before beginning his meal.

She emerged from the kitchen a few moments after, setting her drink and plate across from him before returning a moment to bring him his water. “There you go.” Molly answered, setting his glass next to his plate. The two of them sat in contented silence as they continued to eat their meal, asking the occasional question of how the other’s day was, how they were feeling, but other than that they didn’t speak all that much. But that wasn’t to say that the two of them weren’t close. Molly cared about her father very much, and that caring had only grown since he’d fallen ill. “Have you taken all your medication today?” She asked.

He shook his head, feeling thankful that he had his daughter watching after him. “No, thank you for reminding me, sweetie.” He replied, standing up from his seat and placing a gentle peck to his daughter’s forehead before retreating to the kitchen to set his dishes in the sink.

“Don’t worry about washing them, dad, I’ll take care of it.” Molly replied, finishing her own dinner and taking her dishes to the sink as well. He nodded, giving Molly a pat on the back before wandering off to take his medication. Molly remained silent, washing the dishes, deep in thought. She was considering the many possible ways she could ask her father if it would be alright for John to visit over the weekend. Her father understood exactly where she and John stood, so he didn’t mind when her friend would stay over. “Hey, dad?” She asked, walking out to the sitting room after she’d finished drying the dishes. He was already sitting in his chair, the television turned on to the news. He turned in his chair, lowering his newspaper.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He smiled, waiting for her question.

Molly walked out into the sitting room, getting comfortable on the couch. She crossed her legs under the rest of her body, back resting against the cushion. “Well, I haven’t seen John since we moved in here. And he’s been having a bit of a rough time with Mary… Well. Would it be alright if he came over for the weekend?” She asked. Her father smiled.

“Actually, I was just about to tell you. I need to go out of town for the weekend for work. Some sort of conference. So if you want to have John over, that’s perfectly fine by me.” He explained, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

Molly hopped up off the couch, smiling widely at her father excitedly. “Thank you so much, dad!” She exclaimed, giving him a tight hug. “Love you!” She called, jogging back into her room. “Good night!” She added as an afterthought before flopping on to her bed.

‘We’ve got the green light, Johnny boy! :) Molly’  
‘Brilliant! See you soon! JW’

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever, so thank you so much for reading, I hope you like it!! If you have anything to say, please, please, please leave me a comment!! ^_^♥


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